


A True Weasley

by ppyajunebug



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-13
Updated: 2014-12-15
Packaged: 2018-03-01 06:31:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2763161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ppyajunebug/pseuds/ppyajunebug
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of short one-shots about Rose Weasley, who does her family proud.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> These were originally posted on my fic blog, Flourish and Blotts Stories (dot tumblr dot com).

The problem, Rose always said, was that she looked too much like her mum.

 

They had the same bushy hair (even if Rose’s was more auburn than plain brown) and the same large teeth. She had her dad’s freckled cheeks, but her nose and mouth and even her ears were all her mum’s. People always commented on the “miniature Hermione” when she visited the Ministry or when they were out as a family.

 

Because she looked so much like the famously brilliant Hermione Granger, everyone expected Rose to follow in her footsteps. Some extended family members were actually surprised when she ended up in Gryffindor. They had all assumed the family genius would be in Ravenclaw.

 

What people forgot is that Rose was the daughter of two of the most stubborn people in the whole of the Wizarding World. She also had a contrary streak a mile wide. And so, on her second day of Hogwarts, when she received nine letters from aunts and uncles and grandparents telling her how many great things they knew she would accomplish, Rose snapped.

 

The next day, Hugo received a package from his beloved older sister. When he opened it, Ron burst out laughing and Hermione turned a rather odd shade of red. Sitting on the kitchen table was a large red and gold striped toilet seat.

 

The Weasley twins have the largest disciplinary file in Hogwarts school history, followed by the so-called Marauders. But coming in at a close third is Rose Weasley, the cleverest prankster of her age.


	2. Chapter 2

He wasn’t a ghost- that she knew for certain.

 

He wasn’t a poltergeist either. He never knocked things over, never shut lights on or off, never came near a door or a window pane or a curtain. 

 

No one seemed to notice his presence but her.

 

To Rose he seemed more like a guiding hand- a gentle touch on the shoulder when she was feeling sad, a nudge on her elbow when she hung back from the group, a whisper across her cheek when she got top marks on an exam.

 

But most of all, she felt him when she planned a prank.

 

Rose always knew when he had come to visit her. She would wake up in the middle of the night with an idea in her head that seemed to come from thin air. It was always something that seemed far beyond her abilities, the sort of trick that would require more daring and skill than she could manage. But she felt deep in her bones that she had to try.

 

Those were the ones that earned her the biggest laughs, the most admiring looks, the longest detentions.

 

Professor Longbottom would send an owl home, and it would come back laden with smoking Howlers (from Mum and Granny and Uncle Percy) and notes of amused admiration (from Dad and Uncle Harry and Aunt Ginny).

Only once did she get one from him.

 

It had been after the Halloween prank she pulled during her fourth year. She enchanted all the castle’s toilets to sing loudly any time they were in use. Any charms to try and muffle the noise would only enhance it. The castle was filled with the garbled tones of wizard and Muggle songs mixing inharmoniously and drowning out the professor’s attempts at lessons.

 

She got three months worth of detention for that one.

 

A week later, a handsome tawny owl brought her a hastily scribbled note. 

 

_He’s still there, isn’t he?_

 

She knew. Sometimes, particularly when Dad was in the middle of recounting her latest prank, he would look at her with such pain and recognition in his eyes that she knew instantly of what, of whom, he was thinking.

 

_He’s here, Uncle George. And he’s happy._


	3. Chapter 3

Harry had always assumed that one of his children would inherit the Marauder’s Map. It had come down to him from his father after all, even if it did make a slight detour with the Weasley twins. And much as he treasured it, it really did belong at Hogwarts.

Unfortunately, none of his children seemed particularly interested in receiving it.

James spent any free time he had on the Quidditch pitch. Albus was usually in the library or tutoring someone in the Common Room and the safe bet was on his becoming Head Boy (George had already put down three galleons on it). Lily was only in her first year, but Hagrid was writing him notes almost daily, assuring him that his daughter was one of the most talented magizoologists he’d ever seen.

That left Harry in a bit of a pickle.

He had an idea of who really should have the Map. He’d known for years. It was only the fear of what Hermione would do to him if (when) she found out that kept him from doing it.

But then again, he was a Gryffindor.

~

Three weeks later, a massive package arrived at Harry’s office. When he opened it, it was overflowing with Honeydukes chocolate, a massive bottle of butterbeer, a toilet seat in a violent shade of purple, and a photograph.

Harry grinned at the photo and stuck it up on the wall.

And Rose Weasley, who was photographed standing in the middle of Filch’s office surrounded by Filibuster’s fireworks, clutched the Marauder’s Map and grinned back.


End file.
